


Falling is Sometimes the Best Route

by kisslicknipsuck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisslicknipsuck/pseuds/kisslicknipsuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to get out of having to take an Eromenos, Severus asks the one person he's sure will say no—except he says yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling is Sometimes the Best Route

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2013 Secret Snarry Swap. It's been ages since the fest was over, but I just realized that I never got around to posting this fic anywhere:'D

Harry knew what it was the moment he laid eyes on it. The silvery fog inside the small vial looked like a Pensieve memory to the casual observer, but Harry was not a casual observer. There was a telltale blue iridescence to the fluid that revealed its true identity. It would smell like ocean water if he uncorked the vial. 

There was no note or name on it, but neither was necessary. It could only have come from one person—the one who had invented the potion. 

The potion had come to Grimmauld Place by way of a Public Post Owl. Had it arrived on the leg of the sender's own owl, Harry would have turned it away without opening the package at all.

He held it in the palm of his hand, the cold glass warming and the potion swirling inside. Standing in his kitchen by the sink, in front of the window the Post Owl had used, he considered the vial. Part of him wanted to pour it down the drain. Another wanted to swallow it. 

It would be smarter to simply wash it away. He knew that. He even uncorked it and made to pour it in the sink but stopped before a single drop could fall. He had to know what was contained in the fog. If he washed it away without knowing, he'd regret it. 

He sat on the tiled kitchen floor right where he'd stood, leaning back against the wood cabinet beneath the sink, in case the potion made him go limp as it had the last time he'd taken it. He brought the potion up towards his face, smelling the saltiness of the sea as he inhaled the mist, the moonflower nectar leaving a sweet aftertaste in the back of his throat. 

He gasped as the potion immediately took effect. 

\--

Potter looked more groomed than Severus remembered. His hair was still an utter catastrophe, of course, and his glasses still too large for his face, but he was different. He was wearing a grey knit jumper and form-fitting Muggle denim trousers—no Wizarding robes, since they were in Muggle London. There were no wrinkles on anything, nor any stray lint, nor smudges on his glasses. 

He carried himself differently. With an air of confidence he'd never had as a student—at least, never as Severus's student. He'd noticed it as Potter walked down the sidewalk of a busy street in Muggle London towards Severus, before Potter had noticed him waiting by the entrance to the mildly posh café, Elliot's, near the London Bridge. 

Potter smiled hugely when he caught sight of Severus, widening his stride to reach him sooner and taking his hand in a firm grip. The tart scent of freshly picked apples wafted gently over him when Potter stopped in front of him. 

"Hello, sir, it's good to see you again," he said, sounding alarmingly genuine. 

Mild annoyance fizzled through Severus. "Yes, indeed. Likewise, Mr. Potter," Severus replied, just to be polite. He was a little thrown by Potter's warm greeting. 

Then they bustled inside and were escorted to the back of the restaurant, past the bar and wall of wine, to the table that Severus had reserved the week before. The polished wood of the chairs creaked when he and Potter sat in their seats opposite each other, scooting themselves forward into place at the matching table. Instinctively, they both picked up their menus, though neither of them really looked at them. 

The hostess who had shown them to their seats took their drink orders (water for Potter, wine for Severus) and bounced off with feigned enthusiasm to fetch them, leaving the two of them alone together. 

Severus was thankful for the solid comfort of the familiar bare brick walls around them. The things he wished to discuss with his former student were not appealing. Potter's smile wouldn't last long, but that was rather the point, actually. It was likely to be the most uncomfortable conversation either of them had ever had, but once it was over, Severus would have completed his obligations. 

"So, how have you been, sir? It's been too long since I've seen you," Potter said, and then flushed. "I never really expected to, actually, since you never answered any of my letters."

Why did he want to see him, Severus wondered. He'd never really said in his letters. Just rambled on about how grateful he was and how sorry he was for the way he'd treated Severus before suggesting they meet to talk. Severus always suspected Potter just wanted to talk about his mother, so he'd always refused him. 

"There is a matter I wish to discuss with you, Mr. Potter," Severus said, ignoring Potter's implied question. 

"Please, call me Harry," Potter said, flashing him another charming smile. 

Severus just stared at him blankly for a moment, silently refusing the younger man's request. The chatter and clatter of the patrons around them filled the silence. 

Potter glanced away briefly with a pout on his face. 

Without regard for his slight, Severus continued. "How closely do you follow the _Prophet_ , Mr. Potter?"

Potter focused on him more closely when Severus addressed him and his brow furrowed slightly as he considered the question. "Not very. My studies keep me busy and the Prophet's mostly rubbish, anyway." He shrugged. 

"Then I gather that you are unaware of my current…" Severus paused to think of the appropriate word for it. "I suppose they'd consider it a scandal." Though why they thought it such was beyond him. Why they thought it any of their business at all was an even greater mystery. 

"No, sir," Potter said, shaking his head. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" The fierce look on Potter's face made Severus wonder what he'd do if he were in trouble. 

"Not trouble, exactly, no. I have done nothing wrong, nothing untoward. But I am being harassed nonetheless."

"Is there anything I can do?"

_Obviously_ , there was something he could do. Why did Potter think he'd invited him there? He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the man's lack of critical astuteness. 

"There is indeed something you can do, Mr. Potter, but it must be done out of your own desire to do so, rather than because of any obligation you may feel towards me. Please know that, should you refuse to do it, I will not be left in peril." It wouldn't do for Potter to botch Severus's plans out of some kind of misplaced Gryffindor instinct to protect the less fortunate. 

Potter's eyebrows went up, his interest piqued. He leaned forward. "What is it, sir?"

Their drinks arrived before he could name it and Severus was simultaneously annoyed and relieved. He wanted to get it over with but, at the same time, he dreaded it. 

"What can I get for you?" their server, a short stump of a woman named Bridget, asked as she pushed an unruly lock of her dark, frizzy, almost-curly hair back behind her ear. The movement reminded Severus of Granger, though probably only because he was with Potter. 

"Oh, sorry, we haven't actually looked at the menu yet," Potter said with an apologetic smile that completely disarmed the woman. 

"Oh, that's all right, love. You just take your time," she said, smiling in what she must have thought was a coy manner, but was really just a bit girlish and obvious. 

Severus rolled his eyes, but she didn't notice. She only had eyes for Potter and he was thanking her politely, both for her patience and for the crusty white bread she left behind. 

Once she was gone, Potter immediately turned back to him wanting to know what he needed help with, but Severus waved him away, ordering him to choose what he wanted to eat first. Potter was clearly impatient, but did as he was told. 

Severus already knew what he wanted. He'd been to Elliot's plenty of times before and knew what he liked. He was in the mood for something varied, so he'd get the small plate of mussels, clams, leeks, and nduja.

It didn't take Potter long to settle on the cheeseburger and fried potatoes, and then he was back to demanding that Severus unload his burden on him. 

Severus pursed his lips in response to Potter's eagerness and the other man backed off a bit.

"Sorry, sir," Potter muttered, looking chagrined. 

He nodded in acknowledgement of Potter's apology and prepared himself to say what he'd come there to say. 

"I brought you here tonight, Mr. Potter, to ask you if you would like to be my Eromenos." 

Severus paused, waiting for Potter to reel back in disgust. His mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes widened, but he said nothing, so Severus continued. 

"It has come to Minister Shacklebolt's attention that I have never taken an Eromenos before. He is of the opinion that it would be beneficial for both me and society if I were to do so. I disagreed, but he is resolute. And thus he has seen fit to inform the media of my choices in the hopes that they would harass me into changing my mind." Severus couldn't help the exasperated sigh that followed his speech. "I'm afraid it is working."

"And you want me to be your Eromenos? You want to be my Erastes?" Potter said. He sounded marginally stunned. At least he didn't sound horrified—yet. 

Once again having to resist the urge to snap, " _Obviously_ ," at the man, Severus only nodded. He didn't know what to think of Potter's apparent lack of an adverse reaction. 

"Yes."

Severus blinked at Potter, confused. "Pardon?"

"I want to be your Eromenos."

Speechless, Severus was glad for the respite of Bridget returning to take their order. She lingered to chat with Potter, but was gone soon enough. 

"So," Potter said with more excitement than he ought to have had, "how do we start?"

\--

Severus was relieved that Potter didn't want the ceremony to be an extravagant event. It was a small mercy, however unintended it might have been. 

Their bonding would still make it into the papers, of course. No amount of cloak-and-dagger tactics could keep the news of Severus Snape and the Savior engaging in an Erastes relationship a secret for long. But Severus was still thankful that there wouldn't be a nosey crowd of strangers and reporters observing them while the ceremony took place. Only Weasley, Granger, Minerva, a Ministry official, and Kingsley. 

Severus had to struggle not to curse Shacklebolt when he swept into the room, beaming. Fortunately for the Minister, he was distracted by Potter standing in front of him in black dress robes, beaming at Severus even more brightly than the Minister. 

It'd been three days since Potter had accepted his offer and Severus still didn't know why he'd done so. It made him uneasy. He shifted his weight slightly on his feet and had to work to keep his expression placid in the face of Potter's eagerness and Minerva and Kingsley's shining approval. 

The room was little more than a closet buried in the second level of the Ministry. There was a low dais in the back of the room on which the Ministry official (Severus couldn't remember his name) stood with Potter and Severus facing each other in front of him. Wooden chairs filled the rest of the room, separated into two halves by a narrow walkway down the middle. Minerva and Kingsley sat on one side, Weasley and Granger on the other. Except for Weasley's wide-eyed expression, they were all smiling encouragingly. 

The white flowers and ribbons all over the walls made it feel terrifyingly like a wedding chapel and apprehension blossomed in Severus's chest like the creeping fingers of frost across a window. 

"Are we ready to begin?" the official asked of Severus and he could only nod in response. 

He was not ready for this; he would never be ready for this. It was rather the reason why he'd never taken an Eromenos before. But he had already backed himself into a corner and had no other choice but to proceed. 

The official made the customary long and frightfully boring speech about the sanctity of an Erastes bond in his nasal, droning voice and Severus didn't hear a word of it. He was too busy examining the worn navy carpet and thinking of the painful unfairness of the whole situation. Almost twenty years of service during the war and this was his reward, a forced bonding to someone he loathed. He nearly choked on the bitter laugh that wanted to spill out of him. 

Potter gave him a concerned look as Severus cleared his throat, but he ignored it, preferring to tune everything out around him. 

He was pulled out of his reverie by his subconscious brain telling him that he was being addressed. He glanced at the official, who was looking at him expectantly, and Severus surmised that they had reached the point of the ceremony when he was to present the customary gifts to Potter. 

The first gift, meant to signify Potter's bond to Severus, was the Prince family signet ring, which Severus pulled from the inside pocket of his robes. Kept in a polished wooden box that he had to un-shrink before he could remove it, the ring was made of white gold and depicted a crown surrounding a wand. It fit easily onto Potter's left little finger. 

Potter rubbed his thumb over the engraving and smiled at him. Severus offered a strained uplifting of lips in return, but it must've looked as strained as it had felt because Potter looked concerned again. 

Severus paid it no mind and took the next gift out of a pocket in his trousers, unshrinking it as well. The hand-beaten metal of the silver goblet was smooth but uneven. There were no intricate patterns carved into it or jewels inlaid, nothing like a customary Erastes ceremonial goblet. It was a simple cup, just large enough to hold a cup of tea. 

The official looked at it with thinly veiled disdain but Severus ignored it and offered the cup to Potter. It might not have looked like much, but it was imbued with complicated charms to destroy poisons. As far as Severus was concerned, it was every bit as valuable as jewels and gold. 

Potter's fingers fit over Severus's on the goblet when he took it from him, as they were supposed to for the ceremony. His skin was warm, Severus noticed. 

Once the cup was in his possession, Potter used his wand to fill the cup with water, and then held it up in offering. Severus had to bend down to sip from it. The water was cold and his hair fell forward to hide his face while he drank. 

He stood up straight again when he was finished drinking. Potter watched him with an indecipherable look while he drank the remainder of the water from the cup. The look felt like a promise and Severus was warily curious. 

For the final gift, Severus had to turn to Minerva. She had been caring for it during the ceremony. She held out the black-painted wicker basket to him and he took it with both hands. 

Inside the oval basket was a tiny white kitten asleep on a red corduroy pillow. Potter cooed at it when Severus passed it to him, and rubbed its forehead with the tip of an index finger. The kitten awoke when Potter touched it, squeaking with alarm. As Potter continued to pet it with his finger, the kitten eventually buried its head back into the cocoon of its body and fell asleep again. 

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Potter asked, smiling softly at it. 

"I am unsure," he said. "It is difficult to tell when they are so young."

Potter nodded and handed the basket off to Granger. The ceremony continued. 

"Mr. Snape, by presenting these gifts, you have made your interest known," the official said. "In the following year, what knowledge or experience do you offer Mr. Potter?"

Nothing Potter was interested in, he thought to himself. "Knowledge and experience in the brewing of potions and the intricacies of the Dark Arts," he said aloud. Potter was training to become a Healer, specifically a Healer of curse-related injuries. 

"And you will teach Mr. Potter of these things to the best of your ability until he is of a rivaling mastery?"

"I will." The finality of the words twisted Severus's gut. He tightened his right hand into a fist and kept his face calm. 

The official turned to Potter. "Mr. Potter, do you find Mr. Snape's offering of knowledge acceptable?"

"I do," Potter said with confidence, watching Severus with that strange look again. 

"In accepting Mr. Snape's gifts, you show your acceptance of him as your Erastes. Is that your intention?"

"It is." 

"Please join hands," the official said as he pulled his wand out of his robes. 

Potter's hands started to come up immediately but he dropped them before they came halfway. Severus was supposed to offer his hands first. 

He hesitated. This was the last chance he'd get to back out. He asked himself for the thousand and first time if he was sure his own stubbornness couldn't withstand Kingsley's. Perhaps he could simply put his house under Fidelius and hide away until everyone grew weary of poking around in his private business. Or he could leave the country. Australia had countless rare potions ingredients with which he'd always wanted to experiment. 

Potter looked uncertain, his brow pinching above his nose and his mouth tightening slightly. 

Severus sighed and turned to glare one last time at Kingsley and Minerva over his shoulder before lifting his hands, palms facing up. 

Potter's shoulders relaxed and he readily slid his hands over Severus's. Again, Severus noticed the warmth of the other man. Their hands moved over each other until they were each gripping the other's wrists. 

The official waved his wand lightly and a glowing gold strip of light poured out of it to wrap around their joined hands. The magic tingled against Severus's skin and he reflexively gripped Potter a little more tightly. 

He could feel Potter looking at him but Severus kept his gaze on the gold ribbon binding them. 

\--

It was early and Potter clearly wasn't a lover of mornings. When Severus met him outside Grimmauld Place, Potter was very quiet, only mumbling a groggy greeting before taking Severus's arm to be Apparated to Spinner's End, where Severus led him to his bedroom on the second floor. It was the second largest bedroom in the house and was securely on the opposite end of the hall from Severus's. 

Unpacking quickly, Potter stopped in the kitchen where Severus was taking his breakfast just long enough to grab a piece of his jelly toast and then was shuffling out the door to get to his first class of the day. Severus grumbled a bit about the theft of his toast, but there was little he could do about it, so he let it go. 

Potter hadn't brought as many belongings as Severus would have expected. Most of them were in a large trunk levitating behind him. It seemed Potter mostly only brought his clothes and textbooks with him, as if he were staying at Hogwarts. A broom leaned against the wall by the front door and a picture of Potter's parents rested on his bedside table, but otherwise, books and clothes. 

Severus was almost relieved. He hadn't been looking forward to having Potter's things strewn about his home as a constant reminder of his interrupted solitude. A year was a long enough time for that to change, though. And he could still feel Potter's presence in his home, even though he'd only been there for less than twenty minutes. 

It was as if the air itself has changed. It used to be heavy with calm and quiet—perfect for brewing the highly complicated potions he was employed to make for St. Mungo's. Now it had become lighter, more alive, almost buzzing with it. Or that might just have been Severus's head reeling at the fact that Harry Potter was his Eromenos and was going to be live in his house for the next year while Severus taught him Potions. 

Severus snorted at the unbelievable situation he was in and bit into his remaining slice of toast. 

\--

He should've thrown the paper in the bin the moment he read the headline, "Severus Snape lures Harry Potter into his dungeon." The picture just below the title was of Potter grasping his arm the morning Severus had brought him to Spinner's End. He hadn't noticed anyone lurking around at the time, but in their relentless pursuit of reporting anything and everything about him and Potter, the reporters had gotten craftier. They'd probably used some kind of concealment charm or an invisibility cloak. 

He bristled with annoyance at being caught out. 

Severus would have destroyed the paper at once, except he made the mistake of reading the first sentence of the article, which immediately brought up the question of their physical relationship. Of course that would be the first thing the gossip-mongers would latch onto first, he thought. 

And then the article went on to detail what they thought Potter's sexual preferences were. They claimed that they had statements from the man's former lovers saying Potter liked things wild and kinky, and suddenly all Severus could think about was Potter putting on a little striptease and sucking him off with his hands tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes. 

He dropped the newspaper on the sitting room floor as if it had burned him. Potter's kitten—he'd named it Sugar—jerked its head up from grooming itself and stared at him with wide eyes and alert ears.

Potter had been living in his home for two weeks and he hadn't yet considered him in any sexual kind of way. He hadn't had a desire for that kind of a relationship when he'd entered into the Erastes bond and he hadn't expected to ever begin desiring it. 

Not that he was desiring it. 

Any thoughts he now had to that effect had been brought about entirely by the filth the Prophet printed as news. He couldn't be held responsible. 

\--

Potter still could not chop as quickly or as perfectly as Severus, but after three weeks of practice under Severus's watchful gaze, he had reached an acceptable level of skill. The potato wedge Severus had given him to practice on was being sliced into nearly uniform slivers as he watched. 

Severus was unsure how Potter had managed to get through seven years of Potions at Hogwarts without ever learning how to properly mince things. He'd thought to start off with a bit of review before moving on to new, advanced things, but then Potter had reduced a rather expensive sprig of Fairy Mint into a mangled mess and it was clear that they would have to start from the beginning. 

To Severus's surprise, Potter never complained about the chopping drills. He wasn't even annoyed the first time Severus berated him for his ineptitude, only embarrassed. And his determination to become better struck Severus. This Potter was not the distracted, careless student he'd had to suffer at Hogwarts. 

"Much better, Mr. Potter," Severus said to him when he finished the potato and looked up expectantly for evaluation. "I think perhaps you are finally ready for real ingredients."

Potter grinned at him. "Brilliant."

So Severus got out all the ingredients for a simple Calming Draught. He had Potter mince the peppermint and chop the ginger roots. He watched very closely as Potter ground the moonstone, since it was the first time he'd let Potter use a mortar and pestle. 

Satisfied with Potter's work thus far, he allowed him to begin brewing. He stood back and watched his every move, noting how tense Potter was. The water in the cauldron began to boil and Potter made to add the powdered moonstone. 

"Don't dump it all in at once. Sprinkle it," Severus advised. 

Potter obeyed without question and Severus lifted a brow in mild surprise. 

"Put the ginger root in first. It's thicker and hardier than the other ingredients, so it needs to be heated longer. Add the scurvy-grass last."

Potter seemed to relax somewhat when he realized that Severus was going to be helpful rather than judgmental. By the time he had the ginger root, peppermint, and scurvy-grass added, he was smiling. He set an alarm to go off in ten minutes with a swish of his wand and then took a step back from the workbench, still grinning like a fool. 

"Is something amusing, Potter?" Severus asked. It was only a Calming Draught; most first years could brew it without help. There was nothing to be proud of, really. 

"I was just thinking of sixth year. It was easier to brew potions when I had your text with all its helpful notes written in the margins. Professor Slughorn thought I was a genius." Potter laughed at the thought. "Now I have my own living, breathing Half-blood Prince teaching me. I'll be a Master in no time."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I taught you for five years to no avail, Mr. Potter. I don't know how you can expect much better this time around."

"I was distracted then; I wasn't trying," Potter argued. "And I didn't have your undivided attention, either." 

The intensity of Potter's gaze made him uneasy but he refused to look away from it. He would not be cowed.

The klaxon of Potter's alarm sounded and both of them jumped, startled. Potter quickly ended it and set to stirring his potion five times anticlockwise. He set another alarm. 

"Do you still have my text?" Severus asked. It might be good for Potter to study it and Severus was a little curious to look back on the things he must have written in it. 

Potter shook his head. "It was destroyed in a Fiendfyre frenzy. I'm sorry."

"No matter," Severus said, only mildly annoyed at the loss. 

They were comfortably quiet for the rest of the potion's brewing. The only interruptions were the sounds of Sugar batting a dried up beetle around on the floor and Severus occasionally offering "helpful notes," as Potter had put it. The potion turned an appropriate amber color after Potter added the belladonna and it was decanted appropriately into five glass bottles once it had cooled enough. 

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," Severus drawled after Potter had corked the last bottle. "After two weeks of toil, you've successfully brewed a potion that most first years can manage on their first day. Well done."

Potter put a hand to his chest and pretended to wipe away a tear from his eye. "This is the proudest moment of my life."

Severus snorted with amusement before he could stop himself. 

\--

A crash woke him. He remained completely still in his bed and strained to listen further. It was the middle of the night. His bedroom was in perfect darkness. He reached up under his pillow slowly to wrap his fingers around his wand. 

"Sssshhh, Sugar, you're loud. You'll wake Snape!" Giggling. 

Severus huffed with irritation at the sound of Potter's voice. Honestly, it was probably two o'clock in the morning. He would have liked to turn over and go back to sleep, but Potter's loud, slurred rambling made it impossible. 

"Sugar, Sugar, Sugar-baby, are you hungry? I'm hungry. Did Snape make food? I love his food. It's the best. Sugar! Merlin's beard, do we have biscuits? Chocolate biscuits!" It went on. 

Grumbling to himself, Severus crawled out of bed. Obviously he'd have to see to Potter if he wanted to sleep. 

Severus padded down the hall towards the stairs barefoot and in his striped blue pajamas and a black housecoat. He could hear Potter in the kitchen, bustling around and slamming cabinets. 

"Cocking hell, Sugar, did you drink all the milk?" Potter made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Orange juice it is, then."

Severus reached the bottom of the stairs, turned into the foyer, and found the source of the crash that had woken him. Potter's enormous pile of books for his classes, that were kept stacked on a table near the door, had fallen to the floor. A bright red paper bag full to bursting with birthday gifts was mixed in amidst the sprawl. 

He glowered at the mess for a moment before picking his way over it and passing through the parlor into the kitchen. Potter was standing with his back to Severus by the island in the middle of the room, eating chocolate biscuits with orange juice. Sugar, the kitten Severus had given him, sat on the island counter top watching his master as a curious child watches an insect crawl across a window. 

"Mr. Potter," Severus said to get the younger man's attention. 

Potter tried to whirl around but lost his balance and had to cling to the island to keep himself from crashing to the floor. He righted himself slowly and said with his mouth full of food, "Severus! I mean Snape. Shite! I mean sir!" He giggled hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "How are you, sir?"

"You are drunk," Severus said with heat. 

"Yes, sir." Potter swayed on his feet. "But I asked how you were." He laughed at his own joke. 

Severus glared at him and Potter slapped both hands over his mouth to contain his mirth. 

"Have you any idea what time it is, Mr. Potter?"

Without removing his hands from his mouth, Potter twisted his body back and forth at his waist in a full-body headshake to signal that he didn't. 

Severus tightened his jaw and silently seethed for a moment. 

"Biscuit?" Potter offered, holding out the box to him. 

He didn't even look at the box. "It is time for bed, Mr. Potter."

Potter gasped. "Are you taking me to bed?"

"Yes," Severus said, stepping towards him. He'd scold him in the morning when Severus was sure the message would get through to him. Right then, he just wanted to go back to bed. 

"Yes! Finally!" Potter shouted, throwing both hands up in the hair. The box of chocolate biscuits was still in one hand and consequently, several of them went flying. "Oops." He giggled, obviously unrepentant. "I'll just get those, shall I?"

"In the morning," Severus growled, wrenching the box out of Potter's hand and slamming it down on the counter, scaring Sugar away. 

"Okay," Potter said amiably. He latched onto Severus's left arm, pressing himself fully against him, and leaned in to whisper loudly, "Take me to bed, sir."

Severus wrote the suggestive note off as drunken misbehavior and tugged the man along. 

"Sugar did that," Potter said as they stumbled over the strewn books. "He also drank all the milk."

"Undoubtedly," Severus said in a sarcastic tone. 

He practically had to drag Potter up the stairs, but once they'd scaled them, Potter's room was the first on the right. Severus tossed him on the bed and Potter said, "We're not going to your room?" with an exaggerated pout on his face. 

"Why would we go to my room?" Severus asked with a long-suffering sigh as he started pulling Potter's shoes off. 

Potter yawned and helpfully lifted his leg. "Dunno, just always imagined we'd be in your bed. Guess it doesn't matter." 

Severus paused after removing Potter's second shoe. "And what would we be doing in my bed exactly?"

Potter grinned at him down the length of his body. "Whatever you want, sir." He lifted his hips suggestively and reached down to palm the front of his trousers. 

Severus was nothing short of dumbfounded. In the three months Potter had been living with him, he had never shown any sign of being interested in a physical relationship. Severus hadn't expected him to. Sex may have been a common, even expected, part of an Erastes relationship, but it was not required. He'd never thought Potter would be interested and Severus hadn't even considered discussing it. 

"Sir," Potter whined. "Touch me. Please." He was pulling his flies open to reach inside and pull at himself. His other hand pushed up under his shirt to rub at a nipple. "Sir, sir, _touch me_." 

Severus couldn't look away, couldn't move. Potter rubbed a thumb over the head of his cock and Severus was reminded of the man rubbing his thumb over his family signet ring. His own cock stirred in his trousers and he took a step back in shock at himself. 

"Sir, Severus, ngh. Severus, Severus, Severus," Potter kept saying his name with each slide of his hand and Severus's breathing picked up. He had to clutch at his housecoat to keep his hands in check. 

"Mr. Potter," he said, interrupting the man's chanting of his name. His voice only barely quivered. 

Potter groaned. "Merlin, I love it when you say my name like that. He arched his back and tugged at his own hair with the hand that had been rubbing his nipple. " _Mr. Potter_ ," he imitated. "Say it again."

"Mr. Potter," he said again without thinking and Potter moaned, his hand speeding up on himself. Severus closed his eyes against it, trying to calm himself, but he could still _hear_ it, Potter's hand on himself, and it was going straight to his cock. 

"Mr. Potter, how long have you harbored these desires?" Some men would have waited until Potter was sober to start interrogating him. Some men wouldn't have taken advantage of his alcohol-induced vulnerability. Severus was not one of those men. 

"Eighth year."

Severus's eyes flew open. Surely that wasn't true. Surely he hadn't lusted after Severus for three years. "When exactly did it start?"

"Mmm, I'm not telling." He was watching Severus with heavy-lidded, mischievous eyes. "Not until you come over here and touch me." 

Severus licked his lips and tried to force himself not to think with his cock, which was hard and throbbing in his loose-fitting pajama bottoms. 

"Come on, Severus," Potter said, lifting his lips and wriggling a little further out of his trousers to expose himself more. "I'm your Eromenos. Don't you want me?" 

He did—apparently. He'd truly never thought about having that sort of relationship with Potter, not in any real sense. He hadn't even thought about having an Eromenos, let alone having Potter as one, before he'd been forced into taking one. But now it was all he could think about. Potter naked, spread out in front him, calling him sir while Severus fucked him. A shudder went through him at the thought. 

"On your front, Mr. Potter," he ordered, moving towards the man. 

"Oh, yes, sir," Potter said eagerly as he rolled over and slithered up the bed. 

Severus crawled into the bed and started with Potter's arse. A hand on each cheek, Severus grabbed and kneaded the flesh. Potter pushed back against him and Severus dug his nails in, making him moan. He slid his hands up his back, pushing his shirt out of the way as he went, and gripped his shoulders, holding him down under his weight. 

He leaned over the prone man to nip at his shoulder but stopped short. That close, the reek of alcohol poured off of Potter. It was a bit off-putting. 

He rested his forehead against Potter's shoulder and let the sour scent of alcohol clear his mind of lust. Severus was not the sort of man to bugger someone fueled by alcohol, especially not one he'd have to live with for another nine months. 

None of that concerned Potter, of course, who was still writhing on the bed, clutching at pillows, and begging Severus to have his wicked way with him. 

He didn't think Potter would simply let him leave after he'd worked him up into such a state, so he sighed and resigned himself to getting Potter off without doing anything too untoward. He'd be disgusted with himself later, but just then, he needed to calm Potter down. 

He kneaded his fingers into the warm skin just below Potter's neck and worked his way down his spine slowly, methodically. Potter mewled and rutted his hips against the mattress a little more erratically. Severus leaned down and blew over the bare skin of his lower back and Potter shuddered. 

"Sir," Potter whined into his pillow. "Want you in me."

"Are you close?" Severus asked, forcing himself to ignore Potter's statement. 

" _Yes_."

"Then come for me," he said and then moved up to whisper in his ear, "Mr. Potter."

Potter's whole body tensed, his hips pushing hard against the mattress, and then went limp. 

After a few minutes, when his heavy breathing evened out and Severus was sure he was asleep, he spelled away the mess beneath Potter and shimmied him out of his trousers, leaving his pants. He covered him with a blanket, turned out the light, and then retreated to his own bedroom. 

In the dark stillness of his room, Severus wondered if it was appropriate to wank or if it would be better to just take a cold shower. 

He took the shower. 

\--

Severus didn't expect Potter to come down as early as he did. He was still eating breakfast when Potter shuffled into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea as if nothing had happened the night before. Severus supposed there was a possibility that Potter didn't remember it, but he doubted it. Potter hadn't seemed quite that drunk to him. It was more likely that his youth had spared him the hangover.

He took a bite of his buttered toast as Potter sat down across from him at the kitchen table with his tea. He sipped his tea delicately and Severus watched him while he ate his scrambled eggs and toast. Silence reigned between them. 

Severus hadn't made Potter any toast, as he normally would have, since he hadn't anticipated seeing the man until at least early afternoon, so after a few minutes, Potter reached across the table and nicked Severus's second slice off his plate. Severus let him do it. He'd grown used to having only one slice since Potter had moved in and taken to stealing at least one of his. 

The pregnant silence continued until Severus finished his meal and Potter finished his tea. Severus pushed his plate to the edge of the table, with its single morsel of egg left, towards Sugar, who—unlike his master—would wait patiently to be given food from Severus's plate. Potter smiled at his kitten and then looked at Severus for the first time that morning.

"So do you still want to know how my attraction to you started? I never got around to telling you last night." He leaned back in his chair and waited for Severus's response. 

It was a challenge. Obviously it was a challenge. Severus could practically hear Potter saying, "I dare you to make it weird." He needn't have bothered with the melodrama. Severus had no desire to make things awkward between them. He didn't really know _what_ he desired, hadn't figured it out the night before or that morning, but it definitely wasn't further discomfort. 

He inclined his head at the man, looking him square in the eye to meet the challenge. "Do tell, Mr. Potter," he said, smirking with satisfaction when Potter licked his lips and flushed. 

"As I said, it was in eighth year, during winter holidays while everyone was away. I'd stayed behind to study. I had a lot of catching up to do if I was to be a Healer." Potter shifted in his seat before continuing. "I was in the potions lab trying to brew a Swelling Solution and failing miserably. It exploded all over me and all I could think about were all the venomous things you'd say to me if you'd seen me." He smiled at the memory. "I got very creative on your behalf. You'd have been proud."

"I'm sure," Severus said and motioned for him to go on. 

Potter grinned and obliged. "Anyway, whatever I did wrong with the potion, I guess it turned into some kind of lust slime."

He must've used bat kidney instead of spleen, Severus surmised. 

Potter's gaze focused on him more solidly and his face slackened slightly. "So there I was, thinking about you and getting hard. I ended up wanking right there in the middle of the classroom, thinking about sucking you off while you lectured me about all the things I did wrong with the potion." 

Severus's cock twitched at the mental image Potter's words conjured. 

"It was confusing afterwards and I knew it was probably because of the botched potion that time, but I kept fantasizing about you long after. I've never really stopped, actually." 

The idea of Harry Potter wanking to fantasies of him both horrified and aroused him. Before he could think about it too much, he asked, "And which fantasy would you say is your favorite?"

He frowned in thought for a moment, pressing his lips together absently. Finally, a smile spread across his face and he chuckled quietly. "Right now, all I can think of is the detention one." 

Severus raised a brow in question and waited for Potter to elaborate. 

Potter bit his bottom lip and had to look away from Severus before he began. 

"And, Mr. Potter," Severus said, trailing his eyes over the blush rising up Potter's neck, "if you'd like, you may touch yourself while you speak." 

Potter's breath came out in a harsh exhale. It took him a moment to collect himself before he was able to say, "Thank you, sir." 

Severus watched with burgeoning satisfaction as Potter fumbled to pull himself out of his pants. He couldn't actually see Potter's hand in his lap, hidden as it was by the table between them, but seeing his arm rise and fall with the motion of his stroking was enough for now. 

"You give me detention, obviously," Potter said, his eyes falling shut. "I don't know for what. It doesn't matter. I show up on time, in your office, and you ignore me for a while. You just sit at your desk, grading essays, and pretend like you don't even know I'm there." He pauses to slouch into a more comfortable position on the wooden chair. "I get impatient and say something to get your attention. You say, 'Eager for punishment, are we, Potter?' and I mumble, 'No, sir,' regretting saying anything to start with, but now it's too late and I have your attention."

The details of the fantasy strike Severus as supporting Potter's claim that he'd been attracted to him since he was eighteen. He hadn't truly believed it before. But he didn't think Potter capable of coming up with something that precise on the spot. The realization sent a tendril of heat coursing through his belly and into his groin. 

"'Come here, Potter,' you say and I obey reluctantly, moving to stand next to you, behind your desk. You turn in your seat to look at me and say, 'Take your trousers off, Mr. Potter.' I say—" Potter pants for a moment and then goes on. "I protest, of course. Why wouldn't I? But you pin me with one of those looks of yours. The one where you purse your lips and cock your head to the side expectantly. I do as you command. It's ridiculous and I'm afraid, but I do as you say because I don't know what else to do."

Severus desperately wants to touch himself. His trousers are uncomfortably tight around his erection and he wants to rip them open, take himself in hand, and stroke along with Potter. But he doesn't. He can't. He won't. Not yet. 

"My hands shake while I undo my trouser button and zip. I shake and you watch me, your eyes on my face. And when I finally get them open and push everything down, your eyes are still on my face. I shiver in the cold of the dungeons." 

Potter runs his left hand through his hair and holds it back from his face. He's sweating; Severus can see it glistening on his forehead and neck. 

"You push back further from your desk and say, 'Bend over,' and I do it without question. I lean over your lap and I can feel your eyes on my naked arse almost more than your hands on my back and thigh, steadying me. My cock takes notice for the first time from the warmth of your touch. It startles me but there's nothing I can do about it and your hand is on me before I can think about it too much. You grip my right arse cheek almost savagely at first and then soothingly, massaging it. I relax into it. You say, 'You will count them, Mr. Potter, and you will thank me for my consideration.' I don’t know what you're talking about until you lift your hand and bring it down in a hard slap that makes me jump." 

Potter's hand speeds up on himself and Severus thinks he might soil himself before Potter finishes describing his fantasy. 

"You have to prompt me to count and I say, 'One, thank you, sir,' and you spank me again and again. And I keep counting. 'Two, thank you, sir. Three, thank you, sir.' And every time you hit me I get a little harder until my erection is pressing into your thigh, and I know you notice, but you don't say anything. You just keep spanking, and I keep counting, and it goes on until you reach ten and I come in your lap with a, 'Ten, thank you, sir.'"

Severus came. He hadn't touched himself, hadn't even moved his hands from their clenched fists on the table, but he still came in his trousers like a teenage boy. It's surprising, embarrassing, and a thousand other things, but undeniable regardless. 

He might've looked down at his groin like it was a traitor if he wasn't so busy watching Potter work his hand over himself. He'd given up speaking, just panting and stroking. His head fell forward so Severus couldn't see his face. He whined on every upward tug. 

Severus wanted to see him come so he leaned forward and said in the most dulcet tone he could manage, "You may go now, Mr. Potter."

Potter moaned and hunched down over himself as he came, his come spurting up onto the table. 

"You have quite an active imagination," Severus said when they'd both recovered. 

Potter offered him a lazy smile and said nothing. 

"What did we do after?"

"Hm?"

"After I sexually abused you, what did we do?"

Potter blinked at him and then shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I never got that far."

\--

The blue paste steaming in the bottom of the copper cauldron melted and turned into a clear, serous fluid when the final piece of crystallized Doxy venom melted over it. Potter beamed at his ninth and only successful batch of Veritaserum. All the others had either exploded or turned to poison. 

"What do you think?" he asked. 

Stepping up next to Potter by the cauldron, Severus scooped out a dose of the liquid and poured it into a vial to better observe it. It was a little thicker than it ought to be, but it was acceptable. He nodded his approval to Potter, who immediately threw his arms around Severus's middle and squeezed his excitement into him. 

Severus was still unused to Potter's physical familiarity with him despite their newfound carnal relationship. He tensed in Potter's embrace, but it didn't perturb the other man, who just gripped him more firmly. 

"Thank you, sir," Potter said, calming somewhat, but still not releasing him. "I could never have done this without you."

"Obviously," Severus drawled, remembering the atrocities Potter had committed against his potions ingredients and tools over the past six months. 

Potter huffed out a laugh and punished him with a nip at his ear. Rather than retaliating, Severus relaxed more into Potter's embrace. 

"Healer Abernathy says I owe you my soul for getting me through her class," Potter said against his neck in a quiet, low voice. 

Abernathy was Potter's Advanced Medical Brewing professor. Severus had met the woman years before when she was on the board reviewing his Potions Mastery application. Given what he remembered of the woman's severity, which surpassed even Severus's, he did not doubt the claim. 

Potter was sucking at his earlobe, dragging his teeth over it, and all Severus could think to say was, "Obviously," again because he couldn't think when Potter was rubbing his hands over Severus's lower back beneath his clothes. 

Potter nibbled along his jaw towards his mouth, but hesitated with his lips hovering over Severus's. He pushed their foreheads together, bumping their noses, and waited, deferring to Severus. 

They hadn't kissed before. Touched with their hands and licked every other part of each other's bodies, but never properly kissed. 

Severus wanted to kiss him. He wanted it with every cell of his body. But he was afraid. It would mean something, he knew, to kiss the man. It would change things, cross a line. He didn't know what was on the other side of it, whether it was good or bad, and no amount of curiosity would make him feel any less troubled about it. 

He waited too long and Potter started to pull away, his disappointment pouring off of him like heat from an Ashwinder egg.

That wouldn't do at all, Severus decided, and yanked Potter back against him by his hips. Potter gasped when he did it and unconsciously brought his arms up to hold onto Severus's shoulders. 

They looked at each other across the mere inches between their faces and Severus's heart thundered in his chest as if it were trying to escape. 

Potter's gaze dropped down to Severus's lips and he leaned forward a little more. "Sir," he whispered and Severus kissed him. 

It wasn't as soft as Severus had imagined. There was no shy brushing of lips or questioning licks. Potter, once he'd been given permission, kissed Severus as deeply as his tongue would allow without slowing down for any buildup. It was a mite overwhelming and Severus had to cling to Potter's hips to keep himself grounded. 

"I can't give you my soul, sir, but there's something else I _can_ give you," Potter said in a rough voice after they'd kissed for what seemed like hours, until Severus's lips had gone numb.

Severus swallowed hard. "And what is that, Mr. Potter?"

Potter smiled against his lips and he kissed him again. His hands found their way to Severus's belt buckle and set to undoing it. He tugged it and the rest of Severus's flies open and reached a hand inside his trousers. 

When Potter's hand wrapped around his cock, he bit down on the man's bottom lip and growled. 

Potter moaned and dragged Severus out of his trousers, stroking him to full hardness. He pulled his face away from Severus so he could look down at his own hand on Severus. "Have I ever told you that you have a gorgeous cock?"

"You have." Every single time he laid eyes on it. 

Grinning, he fell to his knees. Severus thought he might faint at the sight of Potter brushing his lips up the side of his erection. "Sir?" he said, looking up at him. 

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Severus prompted, burying his hands in the other man's hair. 

Against the head of Severus's cock, he breathed, "You have a gorgeous cock," and then swallowed him until his nose was buried in coarse hairs around the base of him. 

_Sweet mother of Salazaar_. He clenched Potter's hair in his fist and thrust against his mouth even though he couldn't possibly have gone any further down his throat. 

Potter's hands pushed on his hips and Severus forced himself to relax his grip enough to allow Potter to pull his head back. The man barely allowed himself to breathe before he descended back down Severus's cock, hollowing his cheeks and twisting his mouth around as he moved. 

Severus's thighs trembled while he watched Potter's red lips stretch around his prick, glistening with saliva. Potter moaned around him and Severus's eyes clenched shut as the vibration sent shocks of pleasure jolting through him. They were so intense Severus swore he could hear them crackling in his head. 

His eyes flew open when Potter's mouth left him. The cold of the lab on his wet cock made him shiver and he looked down at Potter with an accusatory scowl. But Potter was looking at the workbench, frowning. 

"What is that?"

Severus followed his gaze to the silver cauldron next to Potter's copper one and realized, to his embarrassment, that he'd completely forgotten about the potion he'd been brewing while Potter had worked on his Veritaserum. The crackling sound Severus had imagined was in his head was not his intense pleasure, but rather the orange sparks the potion let loose when it was ready for the next phase. 

Bugger, Severus thought, scowling at his cauldron as he shuffled over to it with his trousers nearly to his knees. He couldn't leave it be. It was an experimental potion and Salazaar only knew what it would do if Severus didn't give it the proper amount of attention. 

He glanced at the floating yellow numbers of the timer he'd set for the potion to see how long it would take the brew to reach this point (about twenty minutes). He was scribbling the time down in his potions journal, along with his observations of the cloudy grey potion, when Potter crawled up to him and started sucking at his bollocks. 

"Potter," he snapped, startled. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, don't mind me, sir. Keep working." He smiled, eyes glittering with mischief, and then took Severus's left testicle in his mouth. 

Severus could only stare at him in disbelief. 

"Am I distracting you, sir?"

_Yes._

"Should I stop?"

_No_ , a thousand times _no_. 

Potter smirked at his lack of answer and went back to placing open-mouthed kisses all over his bits. 

Keep working, Potter had said. Right. 

He picked up his journal and continued to write in it, periodically glancing up at his sparking potion to record its behavior. He had to bite his lip and stop writing every once in a while when Potter sank his mouth down over his cock. 

Eventually he ran out of things to write, so he put the journal down and pulled the pewter dish full of powdered Jobberknoll feathers steeped in octopus ink towards himself. He sucked some of the dark fluid into an eyedropper and bent down slightly over his potion to begin counting out twenty-five drops. 

Potter swallowed him again and Severus nearly lost his count. He paused at twelve to grip the edge of the workbench and refocus his concentration. Potter was slurping around him in the most obscenely arousing manner Severus could imagine, and his bollocks were drawing up. 

He only made it to twenty-two drops. 

Potter sucked his orgasm out of him, swallowing every drop of Severus's release, and licked him clean afterwards. 

His potion was bubbling threateningly at him, having not gotten the right amount of Jobberknoll feather, and Severus had to Vanish it before it exploded. In his increasing calm, he was mildly annoyed by its loss. 

At his feet, Potter was stroking himself, leaning his head against Severus's hip. Severus grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to his feet, startling the man. 

"Sir—" he started, but Severus cut him off by crashing their mouths together. Potter melted against him and surrendered himself to Severus's mouth. 

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Severus growled at him, pushing him against the edge of the workbench and taking his cock in hand. Potter gasped and thrust into it. 

"No, sir," he said and leaned back over the workbench, giving Severus more access to him. "What did I do?"

"You _ruined_ my potion, Mr. Potter," Severus said. "All that work lost because of your lack of restraint." He twisted his wrist on an upward pull and rubbed his thumb into the slick head of Potter's cock. The man whimpered and tried to thrust into his hand again, but Severus held him down. 

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry. Please."

"What am I to do with you, Mr. Potter?"

"I won't do it again, sir. I promise."

Severus snorted. "Such a liar."

"Please, sir. Please, please," Potter begged even as Severus obligingly pumped his hand over him. The words were more a mantra than a plea. He was already so lost in Severus's hand on him. 

He leaned back even more over the workbench, knocking things over, until he was practically lying on it. The dish of Jobberknoll feathers and octopus ink spilled over the wood work surface and Severus felt only the slightest twinge of outrage before Potter was finishing in his hand, soiling the both of them. 

"Did I really ruin your potion?" Potter asked lazily after he'd calmed. 

"No, Mr. Potter, I Vanished it because it was too perfect." He rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the question and set about righting himself in his clothes. 

"I'm sorry—really."

Severus looked up from tucking in his shirt to find Potter frowning at him glumly. He sighed and waved a hand at Potter. "It is of little consequence. The potion was a mere experiment. It was likely to fail in any case."

"Still," Potter said, sitting up and hopping off the workbench. "I'm sorry."

Severus nodded at him. 

"What's it supposed to do?"

"Store memories. Like Pensieve memories without the actual Pensieve."

"Oh?" Potter said as he slipped his arms around Severus's shoulders. "And how's it coming along?"

"It was progressing quite nicely until some miscreant destroyed my last test batch and spilled my remaining supply of the key ingredient all over the table," he said, leaning into Potter's ensuing kiss. 

"Lucky for that miscreant, you're in a forgiving mood. Otherwise he might be in a bit of trouble."

"Forgiving—yes."

Potter smiled against his lips and Severus forgot the mess altogether. 

\--

Severus started when the curtain to his shower opened while he was still naked inside, washing soap out of his hair. The soap burned his eyes when he opened them to identify the intruder before it had all been rinsed away. 

Potter. Naturally. 

Equally as naked as Severus and brandishing quite the erection, Potter climbed in the porcelain tub with him. "I was going to wait for you in your bed, but you took too long."

They kissed before Severus got a chance to reply. Potter's hands cupped the sides of his face and directed their mouths together in a sweet kiss that quickly delved into a deep, sucking battle of lips and tongues. He pressed closer to Severus and thrust his hard length against his belly, moaning into his mouth when he felt Severus's cock stiff glide against his own. 

Severus gripped Potter's arse and pulled their groins together, grinding them. He swallowed the sound Potter made as their cocks slid together between their bodies. Potter wrapped his arms around his shoulders and lifted a leg up to hook around his hip and press them even closer together. 

The water beating down against his back was beginning to cool, but he hardly noticed it when Potter latched onto his neck and sucked until his teeth scrapped over the flesh. Severus gasped and involuntarily jerked Potter against him, digging his fingers into his arse and groaning low in his throat. 

Potter's fingers slithered into his hair and pulled gently but firmly to force his head back and open Severus's neck up for further exploration. When Severus offered his neck willingly, Potter let go of his hair with one hand and brought it down over one of Severus's on his arse. He pushed Severus's hand inward into the crease of his backside, guiding him to his entrance, which was slick with something more than water. 

"Want you," Potter breathed hot against his ear and Severus shuddered. 

Experimentally, he dipped two fingers inside of Potter to find the ring of muscle already loosened somewhat. 

Potter pushed back against his fingers, gasping, "Yes!" and clung harder to Severus, making him stumble. 

For the first time, Severus wished that his Victorian-style bathtub had walls on which he could lean. As it was, he had to let go of Potter to regain his balance. 

"Sir," Potter said once Severus had righted himself. "Take me to bed." 

As if Severus needed to be told.

He reclaimed Potter's mouth briefly before turning to shut off the rapidly chilling water. He shoved the white curtain open and stumbled out of the tub with Potter on his arm. Dripping wet, Severus led Potter out of the bathroom, into his bedroom, and kissed him once more before pushing him into the bed. 

Potter didn't mind his roughness and crawled up higher in the dark blue-sheeted bed without having to be told. He remained on his hands and knees when he reached the center and looked back at Severus over his shoulder with burning eyes. He wriggled his arse at Severus invitingly. 

Severus was on him in seconds, fitting his cock into the crease of his arse and thrusting along the seam. Potter moaned and clenched around him. Severus nearly came right then. 

"Sir, please," Potter said, rubbing his face in a pillow. "I can't. Ngh. I can't much longer."

Severus's breath hitched at that admission and for a moment his mind went completely blank, his world narrowing to the sight of his cock cradled between Harry bloody Potter's arsecheeks, the sound of the man's panting, the bergamot scent of his soap, and the heat coming off of Potter's body.

"Sir, _please_ ," Potter said again with more urgency. 

He watched himself slowly sink into his Eromenos for the first time. Potter seemed to devour him as he pushed, the heat and tightness around him nearly undoing him before he was fully seated. And then Potter squeezed and a helpless sound spilled out of him as his instincts took over and his body started moving in his lover of its own accord. 

Potter's face was buried in a pillow, muffling his moaning enough that Severus could barely hear him over their bodies slapping together. It was a shame almost, he'd think later, that he hadn't gotten to hear Potter's sounds, that he hadn't heard him come. 

He certainly felt it, though. It clenched around him so tight that it ripped Severus's release from him. He tensed and held Potter's hips against him while he emptied inside the man. They both fell to one side together. 

It was Potter who eventually dug the sheets and blankets out from beneath them and covered them up. He waved the lights out with a lazy wave of his hand and curled up next to Severus in the bed, putting an arm and leg over him possessively as he settled down into sleep with a smile on his face. 

Severus lay awake for a long time. He was exhausted and the bed was cozily warm with the covers and Potter draped over him, but he couldn't fall asleep. Something nagged at him and he couldn't ignore the discomfort of it. 

Careful not to wake Potter, Severus slipped out of the bed. He stood beside him, staring down at his naked, sex-wearied Eromenos in his bed, and wondered, not for the first time, why he was there. How had Severus managed to lure him there?

He could think of no plausible reason, and the more he thought about it, the deeper his face twisted into a frown, so he stopped thinking about it. Instead, he tucked Potter in more securely and left the room. He would sleep elsewhere. 

\--

He had gifts. He hadn't expected gifts. Sitting in a raggedy chair by the fire in the Burrow's main room, Severus secretly marveled at the small heap of brightly colored packages at his feet. He didn't think he'd ever received so many gifts for any occasion before. 

Potter sat on the floor beside his chair, handing out the rest of the gifts stuffed beneath the tired-looking Christmas tree shoved into a corner of the room, which smelled heavenly of baking bread. But as much as Severus loved freshly baked bread, the scent of food was making his stomach turn. 

He'd thought the nausea had just been stemming from his visceral dread of having to spend the entire day surrounded by cheerful, festive Weasleys, but as the day had progressed without incident, he'd had to admit that perhaps he was just a touch ill. 

Another package, wrapped in shiny silver paper, found its way into his lap. He placed it with the others and sighed. 

"Blimey, Snape, I've never seen someone get so shirty about being given a present," George Weasley said from across the room. He sat on the sofa between his mother and Katie Bell, his fiancée, looking amused. 

"George!" Molly said harshly, smacking him on the arm before turning to Severus with a sweeter, more concerned frown scrunching up her brow. "Is something wrong, Severus?" 

Everyone's attention was on him. All conversation had stopped and they'd all turned to look at him expectantly. He bristled under the scrutiny. 

Potter touched his ankle and Severus glanced at him. He scooted closer to rest his chin on Severus's knee and asked quietly, "Is everything all right? Do you still not feel well?"

Severus relaxed somewhat in the face of Potter's worry. The man rubbed a hand up and down the back of Severus's leg in a soothing manner and he calmed further.

"I am grateful for the gifts," Severus said to the room at large. He looked at no one in particular, choosing to regard his pile of presents instead. "But as I only learned of my invitation to this celebration a mere two days beforehand, I'm afraid that I find myself unable to return the generosity."

"Severus," Potter said, hiding a chagrined smile behind Severus's knee. "I put both of our names on the gifts I got everyone."

Of course he had. "How thoughtful of you," Severus deadpanned. Potter and everyone else laughed.

"He only told you two days ago?" Molly asked, blinking with surprise. 

Severus raised a brow at Potter and the man didn't actually have to say anything because the, "I was afraid you wouldn't want to come," was written so clearly on his face. He nudged Potter with a toe. 

"Sorry," he said, squeezing Severus's ankle. "I'll give you more warning next time."

Severus nodded and the gift-opening resumed but all he could think about was Potter implying that there would be a next time. 

\--

The concerned look on Potter's face when he opened his eyes woke him up more than the sound of voices had. His bed felt vaguely damp around him and he couldn't seem to move without a great deal of exertion, so he stopped trying. Sugar lay curled in a warm ball at his hip. 

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" Potter said, leaning over him from the side of the bed. He touched Severus's forehead with something cool and it felt so good he involuntarily made a small sound in the back of his throat. 

With extraordinary effort, Severus managed to clear his throat and say, "Yes, Mr. Potter," in a raspy whisper. 

"Thank Merlin," Potter breathed, running the cool cloth down the side of his face and along his neck, wiping away the sweat. "You've been unconscious for three days and your fever's been getting worse the whole time. I was afraid you—" Potter stopped short and clenched his jaw. "I was worried."

"I'm fine," Severus said and closed his eyes again. It was too tiring to keep them open. 

"You have Scrofungulus, sir. The fungus is spread throughout almost your entire respiratory system. You are not _fine_ ," Potter said in a voice so vehement it shook. 

Severus looked at him again, ignoring the way his head throbbed harder when he opened his eyes. Still gently wiping the cloth over Severus's heated skin, Potter failingly struggled to keep his face impassive. His jaw was tight and his nostrils flared. He was red-faced; large dark circles hung below his eyes and he had a magical bubble around his mouth and nose to protect him from Severus's pathogens. 

Severus strained to lift his hand and touch Potter's arm to gain his attention. Potter looked up at him with uncertainty in his eyes. "Then I shall _be_ fine, Mr. Potter."

Potter gazed at him intensely for a moment before nodding and looking away to resume cooling him down with a wet cloth on his chest. "Your fever broke this morning. You should be able to get out of bed in a few days." His face then twisted into a poorly suppressed smile. "If you take your potions," he added, hinting. 

"And who brewed my potions, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, mildly amused by Potter's need to show off to him. 

"I did, of course," Potter said, proudly lifting his head. 

"Then I shall surely die."

Potter burst out laughing. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

\--

Potter's breath fanned over his arm, disturbing the short hairs that grew there. He could feel the man's heart beating against his chest. He nuzzled into the warmth of Potter's back and repositioned his leg that was tangled with Potter's ankles. Potter shifted in his sleep but quickly settled back down. 

They'd made love. Slow and not exactly soft, but soft _er_. Potter had cradled Severus between his thighs, whispering things he couldn't even really hear, and held Severus while he fell to pieces on top of him. Severus had come first. He'd finished Potter with his mouth. 

"Stay?" Potter had asked, pushing Severus's hair off of his sweaty brow. Potter had never asked him to stay before. He'd never asked why he usually didn't, either.

He'd stayed. 

Severus hadn't even known that he knew how to make love. He hadn't been completely convinced that such an act ever really happened. So after, he didn't know what to do with it. Was there anything _to_ do?

He sighed, holding Potter a little tighter, and resolved not to worry about it. 

\--

He could tell something was wrong just by the way Potter dropped his books when he came in the front door. Severus looked up from his pot of beef stew simmering on the gas stove when Potter arrived home from his long day of Healer classes. The door clicked shut behind him and his books, in their bag, hit the floor with a thud rather than being placed neatly on their table as Severus had painstakingly trained Potter to do. 

Leaving a wooden spoon to stir the stew on its own, he went to investigate. In the foyer, Severus found Potter standing with his shoulders slumped, one hand still on his bag and the other rubbing at his face while Sugar pressed himself up against his shin and mewled to get attention. 

"Something the matter?" Severus asked.

Potter sighed. "Malfoy," he said, as if the name was a curse. Perhaps to Potter it was. 

Draco had entered the same Healer school that Potter had and the two of them had been competing with each other ever since. Last Severus had checked, they were neck and neck for the position of First Graduate, who would get the first pick of internships after graduation.

Severus knew Potter wasn't worried about the internship. Even if he graduated with the lowest marks of his class, he was still Harry Potter. He'd have a line of Healers from every field of medicine begging him to intern with them. Potter just didn't want to admit to succumbing to a childish rivalry. 

"Put your books away and tell me what he's done over dinner," Severus commanded and then returned to the kitchen to set the table and serve them both steaming helpings of his chunky stew.

"We're tied in everything but Potions," Potter said with a pout after they'd tucked in. "And I'll never beat him at that. He's a natural at it, like you."

"Perhaps," Severus conceded, "However, he does not have me to mentor him."

"No, but he has Professor Slughorn."

"Are you implying that Horace Slughorn is a better mentor than I?" Severus was glaring at him. 

Potter nearly choked on a potato in his rush to deny any such claim. "No, of course not! I only meant that, on top of his innate abilities, Malfoy also has a Potions Master at his disposal."

Severus hummed in acknowledgement and took a bite of stew while he contemplated Potter's predicament. 

Draco did have him rather at a bit of a disadvantage. He'd always been Severus's best student at Hogwarts, and not only because Severus had doted on him. And after being Slughorn's Eromenos for the last two years—a year longer than Severus had had Potter—he was no doubt well on his way to becoming a Master, even if Slughorn's skill was highly overrated, in Severus's opinion. 

All in all, Potter definitely had his work cut out for him if he was to defeat Draco at brewing anything. 

"It is obvious that your only choice is to study and practice more," Severus finally said. "We will set aside your Dark Arts studies to make more time for Potions and increase the difficulty of your current lessons. I believe that will give you your best chance."

Potter frowned. "I don't want to take you away from your work. I know you've already been putting aside your experiments just to get me through my classes. It wouldn't be fair to you, and it's not that important, anyway."

Severus studied his Eromenos in silence for a moment. Wasn't important? Defeating Draco had been a significant part of Potter's drive since before their relationship had begun. And now he was willing to concede defeat simply so Severus could toy around with a potion that he might never be able to complete?

"My experiments can wait, Mr. Potter. There is no rush. And it is my duty to instruct you to the best of my ability."

Potter seemed to consider that, the frown still on his face. "In that case, I guess it's all right. If you're willing to offer it, it'd be stupid of me not to take you up on it," he said, but still looked guilty about it. 

Severus did not want Potter to feel guilty for accepting additional help, if only because Potter would be a worthless student if he was worried about putting Severus out during the entire lesson. He had learned over their nine months together that a motivated Potter was a productive Potter. And to achieve that, he'd have to change tactics. 

"A wise decision, Mr. Potter," he said, resuming his meal. "And to relieve you of any misplaced distress, please know that I do this not just for your sake, but also for my own. I cannot allow you to tarnish my reputation by losing to that great oaf Horace Slughorn." Never mind that no one but he and Potter knew about the competition at all. 

Potter blinked at him, a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth. He then grinned and let the spoon fall back into his bowl. "Oh, I see now. You're not being generous because you want to see me succeed. You just want to beat Professor Slughorn." 

"I am perfectly capable of desiring both of those things simultaneously," he said, smirking at his success. 

Potter chuckled. "Why do you hate Professor Slughorn so much? He's a little annoying, but he's not that bad. He was always nice to me, at least."

"Because he thought you would be useful to him."

"I suppose, but I thought Slytherins were supposed to take care of their own. Why are you so determined to outdo one of your own?"

_You are my own_ , Severus thought, and then immediately snorted with derision at the surprising and confusing sentiment. 

Potter took his snort as a response, however, and laughed. 

\--

Severus collapsed on the sitting room sofa in front of the fire and let out a relieved sigh. Everyone was gone. It was finally quiet in his home again. It was an utter wreck with used dishes, torn wrapping paper, and abandoned beverages everywhere—but it was quiet. Sugar jumped into his lap and purred.

Potter sat down beside him, close enough to press their thighs together. "Did you have fun?" he asked, resting his head on Severus's shoulder and taking his hand. 

Amazingly, he had. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had that much fun with that many people at once. Possibly never. 

Severus hadn't known he'd had so many friends. All of his former colleagues from Hogwarts, every Weasley still alive and well, a smattering of former students, and the remaining members of the Order had filled his home, all apparently there to wish him a happy forty-second birthday. 

He'd come home from delivering an emergency batch of potions to St. Mungo's a couple hours earlier to find them all wandering about the place with tiny plates of odds and ends in their hands, chattering to each other about how nice Spinner's End was after Severus had refurbished it and how exceptionally typical the weather had been lately. 

He'd have fled at the sight of so many people in his home, but they'd noticed him too quickly and he was pulled further into the house by all his well-wishers. 

"We were going to hide and then all jump out at once, shouting, 'Surprise!' But Harry thought you might set us all on fire," George Weasley said, clapping him on the shoulder in an alarmingly familiar way. "Happy birthday, anyway, Professor."

"Severus!" Dedalus Diggle had called. "What a lovely home you have. I never knew you had such an eye for décor."

"Forty-two, Severus? Merlin, best be careful," Arthur Weasley had said. "At this rate, you'll be old in no time."

He'd ignored most of the remaining greetings as he waded his way through his sitting room into the kitchen in his search for Potter, who could be the only explanation for the abomination in his house. 

He'd found him bent over a ludicrously large, white-frosted cake, carefully placing strawberries around the edges of its three round tiers. Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Longbottom had been tittering at him while he worked, but they'd all fallen silent when Severus strode into the room.

"Mr. Potter," he'd begun, ready to plunge into a tirade of nastiness, but had stopped short when Potter looked up at him with a thousand-watt smile spread across his face. 

"Severus," he'd said, setting down his bowl of strawberries and rubbing his hands clean on a towel. He rounded the kitchen island to kiss him on the cheek and tug him towards his cake. "You're back—finally. Now we can start."

"Start?" Severus had asked naively, and was then rewarded with several hours of mass celebration. They'd sung to him, showered him with gifts, and eaten all his food while they waxed poetic about how wonderful they thought he was. 

It'd been jarring and he'd been anxious for it to end. 

Now that it was, he was almost a little disappointed. 

"Sir?" Potter prompted, lifting his head off Severus's shoulder to look at him. "You did have fun, didn't you?"

"Yes, Potter, it was an experience."

Potter smiled and laid his head back down again. "Happy birthday, Severus."

\--

Severus sighed with disappointment; the prototype had held such promise. It was the fifty-third attempt and Severus was close to calling it quits. Perhaps Pensieves were the only means to view an externally stored memory for a reason. 

He'd managed to make a lot of headway on his memory-saving potion in the weeks following Potter's winter break after the man had returned to classes. He'd managed to find a way to bind the memory to the potion, but he still hadn't figured out how to make the memory viewable again. 

Beside him, Potter lowered his wand after setting his latest attempt at a Heart-Regulator Tonic to stirring. He blew out a breath and turned to look at Severus's cauldron. "Still not working?" he asked.

"Decidedly not."

"Hm," Potter grunted wordlessly, coming closer to peer at the cloudy white solution in his cauldron over his shoulder. He must've run out of appallingly optimistic encouragements to offer. "How does it work? Or, I guess, how is it supposed to work?" 

"Theoretically, one would place a memory in the potion in the same manner as if it were a Pensieve. To access the memory, one would then simply inhale it." The solution turned gaseous when it came into contact with memories. 

"Have you already put a memory in it?"

Severus held up a vial of the potion in which he had placed a memory of his first day teaching at Hogwarts. The potion had become a silver gas with a blue sheen when the memory was added to it. 

"You've tried it?"

"Indeed."

"May I?"

Severus lifted the vial up and Potter leaned over his shoulder to breathe it in deeply. Unlike during Severus's attempt, when nothing happened to him, Potter immediately seized up before going limp. Severus had to scramble to catch him before he hit the stone floor. He lowered Potter to the ground and pushed his hair out of his face. The man's eyes were moving rapidly behind his closed lids. 

"Potter?" Severus said, his voice only slightly anxious. "Potter, are you all right?"

Of course he got no response from the man, and so Severus started to panic just a touch. It being an experimental potion, Severus had no idea what all the possible adverse side-effects would be. He hadn't expected any, really, which was why he'd been testing it on himself in the first place. There was no antidote for it—he hadn't thought he'd need one—so there would be little St. Mungo's could do if he took Potter there. 

He hadn't the faintest idea of what he should do. Near Potter's head, Sugar, half-grown already, stood watching them with focused alarm, his tail twitching.

"Potter," he said again, pleadingly this time. "Harry, please. Wake up." He touched Potter's face, cupping the side of his cheek, and willed the man to be all right. After all the things Potter had brought into his life, he couldn't just _leave_. 

Potter opened his eyes. He blinked up at Severus, who was still arched over him, and said, "I would never have guessed that you'd be so scared of a room full of children."

Severus barely had time to let out a breath of relief before he set to defending himself. "And why is that? Children are monsters."

Potter laughed as he sat up and scratched a relieved Sugar behind the ear. "True," he said, looking around him with mild confusion. "How did I end up on the floor?"

"You collapsed after breathing in the potion." Severus got to his feet and offered his hands to Potter, pulling him up as well. "Do you feel well?" Potter fell forward into Severus's arms, but he suspected that had been intentional. 

"I feel fine," Potter assured him. "A little more afraid of first years now, but otherwise fine." He grinned and pecked Severus on the lips. 

He was so relieved that Potter wasn't harmed that he almost failed to realize the implication of Potter's description of his memory. "You said I was afraid. How could you tell?" Severus certainly hadn't shown any fear that day. It wouldn't have done to let the little brats glimpse such a weakness. 

"I could feel it," Potter said. "It was like it was happening to me and I could feel everything you felt and hear everything you thought. It wasn't like a Pensieve memory at all." 

"Interesting," Severus said, sounding distant. His thoughts were miles away, so he didn't really notice that Potter was kissing his neck until he bit him on his pulse point. 

"I was injured, Severus," Potter said petulantly. "Soothe me."

Severus sighed in a put-upon fashion. "If I must," he said, and caught Potter's wrist before the man could hit him. 

\--

Severus was waiting for Potter to arrive home from his final day of Healer training with Sugar purring in his arms. He would take his last test, a Potions exam, and then the scores would be calculated while the students had a banquet, after which the First Graduate would be named. It would be either Potter or Draco. 

He heard the crack of Apparition before the door opened. Potter stepped into the foyer, saw Severus waiting for him, and his face broke out into a grin. 

"You won," Severus said with certainty and set Sugar down on the floor. The cat stretched and then left Severus and Potter to their own devices. 

"By the skin of my teeth, thanks to you." He set his bag of books on the floor and strode towards Severus to spin him around in a gleeful hug. "You should've seen Malfoy's face when they announced me as the First Graduate." He laughed. "I thought he might combust."

Severus grunted his amusement and allowed himself to be twirled. He was smiling; Potter's delight was infectious. 

"I can never thank you enough," Potter said, slowing them to a stop. He moved in closer to Severus to kiss him. His hands moved up his clothed chest and gripped the fabric. "But I can try."

Severus raised a questioning brow at him. 

Potter smirked and pushed him back to press him against a wall. He locked their mouths together while he sorted out Severus's belt and flies. Severus was breathless and more than a little hard by the time he got it all undone and open. Potter sank to his knees, still smirking. 

The back of Severus's head hit the wall when Potter took him in his mouth. He sighed contentedly at the familiar wet suction of it. He carded his fingers into Potter's hair while he waited for him to start moving. When he didn't, Severus looked down at him. 

The moment their eyes met, Potter let go of his hips and lowered his arms to hold his hands behind his back. He shifted his stance on his knees and waited, watching Severus. 

He knew immediately what Potter was inviting him to do and the prospect of it sent a thrill through him. 

He stood away from the wall, his hands still in Potter's hair, and pulled himself almost all the way out of his mouth before thrusting back inside. Potter met him halfway and moaned when Severus pulled out again to repeat the motion. 

He tried to maintain a slow, even pace for Potter's sake, but when the man's eyes slid shut so he could concentrate on swallowing Severus, he lost control. He sped up and was perhaps a bit more rough that he ought to have been, but if Potter was having trouble or didn't like it, he never showed it. He kept his hands behind his back and took everything Severus had to give him until Severus came in Potter's throat. 

Severus yanked him to his feet by his hair and devoured his mouth with the desperation of a starving man. Potter mewled in his mouth and rubbed himself against Severus in search of friction. Cupping him through his trousers, Severus massaged the bulge there until Potter dug his nails into Severus's shoulders and came in his pants. 

They leaned against the wall together, their foreheads glued to one another, and shared the same air while they both worked on slowing their breathing. 

Potter recovered faster and was pressing kisses all over Severus's neck and face when someone knocked at the door. 

"Oi, Harry!" they called from outside. "Where are you, mate? Everyone's waiting! You can't skive off your own graduation party!"

Potter groaned and hid his face against Severus's shoulder. "How do you feel about clubs?"

\--

It really was a good thing that Draco was wealthy, otherwise Potter and his friends would have drunk him out of house and home. As it was, they'd all run the tab up so much that the barman kept checking with Draco every time someone ordered more drinks. Paying for Potter and his friends' merriment was his punishment for losing their contest. 

The pub they were celebrating in smelled of tobacco smoke, alcohol, and sweat. The tables were greasy; there was only one grimy window; the music was loud enough that they had to shout to hear each other; and there were entirely too many people packed into one room. Severus hated it, but he endured it for Potter's sake. 

He sat on the end of a round corner booth with Potter on his right, no one on his left, and hangers-on all around them. Some of them Severus knew from Hogwarts, others must've been friends Potter had made in his Healer school. Draco and Slughorn were across the table; Draco glowered while Slughorn looked pleased as punch to be included in the festivities. 

Empty glasses, stacked up on top of each other, littered the tabletop. Potter, thankfully, had restrained himself rather nicely from overdoing the drinking, letting his friends do it all for him, and sat leaning against Severus, his hand placed intimately on his inner thigh beneath the table. 

"Do you want to leave?" Potter asked, sliding his hand higher up Severus's thigh. 

"Very much," he said, turning his head to speak directly into Potter's ear. 

Potter smiled and tilted his face up to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. 

"Are the two of you actually buggering?"

They both turned to look at Draco, whose mouth was hanging open a little. It was the first time that night that he'd spoken without being prompted. He'd spent the evening hunched over the same glass of iced amber liquid he'd ordered when they'd first arrived, scowling at anyone who dared to address him, and verbally abusing anyone who mentioned his loss to Potter.

"Of course we are, Malfoy, not that it's any of your business," Potter said, taking Severus's arm possessively. 

Draco directed his incredulous look at Severus. "How did it happen? I thought you only asked him to be your Eromenos because you'd thought he'd say no."

A chill of dread stiffened Severus's spine. He'd never admitted to Potter his true intentions behind choosing him for his Eromenos, and he had a sinking feeling that the man would not take kindly to it. He wanted to throttle Draco for his indiscretion. 

"Like I said, Malfoy," Potter said. "It's none of your bloody business."

At the behest of Potter's shoving, Severus stood up from the booth and waited for Potter to scoot out and stand as well. Potter took his arm again without looking at him and dragged Severus through the pub and outside into the street. It was quieter outside and Potter rounded on him as soon as the pub door swung shut behind them. 

"Is what Malfoy said true? Did you only ask me because you thought I'd say no?" Potter's face was fierce and the grip he had on Severus's arm was approaching painful. 

There was no point in denying it. He'd considered lying but ultimately concluded that that would only make it worse. But at the same time, he couldn't actually bring himself to say it out loud, so he just nodded. 

Potter released his arm and took a few angry, disbelieving steps away from him before whirling around to look at him again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Well that was obvious, wasn't it? To avoid the very altercation they were having. That wouldn't have been a welcome answer, he didn't think, so he said instead, "I didn't think it was relevant."

"Severus—bloody hell—I care about you. I cared about you even before this whole Erastes thing. When you asked me to be your Eromenos, I thought it was because you held some kind of interest in me. I just feel like a fool now." Potter turned his back on Severus. "You always make me feel like a fool."

Severus took a step towards him. "Potter, please know that that was not my intention. I merely thought that, since what was between us had become genuine, how it began no longer mattered."

"It wouldn't have if you'd been the one to tell me." Potter's voice had gone quiet. Severus moved closer and Potter looked over at him. His eyes were filled with tears and Severus found that he couldn't breathe. "How could you let Malfoy be the one to tell me?"

Severus didn't know what to say. _It was an accident_ wasn't an acceptable response. 

"If you just wanted someone to say no to get you out of having to take an Eromenos, you could've just told me. I would've told Kingsley you'd tried but I wasn't interested. I'd have told him anything you wanted. I'd have done anything for you."

How was he to know that, Severus wanted to argue, but he couldn't make his mouth move, not when Potter's face was tracked with tears. Why did it even matter anymore? They were happy together; why did it matter?

Potter eventually walked away when Severus couldn't think of anything to say.

\--

Potter slept in his old bedroom for the remainder of his stay at Spinner's End. He generally avoided Severus and when they did cross each other's path, neither of them knew what to say, so they said nothing. 

Seeing Potter's belongings piled up in front of the door made his chest tight. His battered old school trunk, a newer and more compact trunk that housed all his books, and Sugar's basket on top. Sugar was sitting in it, fully grown now, watching Severus with his mismatched eyes. Severus thought he looked sad, but it was probably just his imagination.

Potter was leaving. He had graduated. Their Erastes bond was over. He had no reason to continue living there, and Severus couldn't blame him for leaving. He'd never understood why Potter had said yes to him to begin with. 

Severus had been looking forward to this day from the moment they'd made the bond. But now that it had arrived, it mocked him. 

Potter came down the stairs with a bag full of the remainder of his things. He hesitated when he saw Severus waiting for him, but recovered and moved through the foyer as if nothing was straining in the air between them. 

Holding Sugar in his arms, Potter shrank all of his luggage and slipped it into his robe pocket. He glanced at Severus, waved awkwardly, and then headed for the door. 

Severus should've called after him, _don't go_. He should've begged and pleaded with Potter to stay. He should've done _something_. But he didn't. He stood motionless in the foyer and watched Potter walk out of his life. 

\--

The picture was of the two of them in bed together. Severus had been lying on his back, mostly asleep. Potter had been curled up beside him, his face cuddled against Severus's neck. They were both naked, but the picture only showed their faces. Potter was smiling. He looked content. Severus was just asleep. 

He'd found the photograph in a drawer of Potter's bedside table. The man must've accidentally left it behind. 

The longer Severus looked at it, the more his hands trembled. 

\--

The house was dead. Silence filled every room like a noxious gas, choking him when he breathed it in for too long. He couldn't stand to sit by the fire in the sitting room and read alone anymore, as he'd liked doing before Potter. And he made far too much noise when he cooked. Moving through the rooms was like wading through honey. His bed was too cold. Even his potions lab in the basement was too impassive. 

It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the stillness. 

And then there was a knock at the door. 

Severus dropped his book on the floor in front of the unlit fireplace and strode towards it, hoping desperately that Potter would be on the other side. 

It was only Minerva. 

Severus would've sent her away, but she invited herself in before he got the chance. 

"You weren't at Harry's graduation," she said as she stirred sugar into the cup of tea she'd poured herself from the pot she'd made in his kitchen without asking. 

Severus ignored both the implied question and the cup she placed in front of him. 

"Are you really going to be so childish, Severus?" She scoffed at her own question. "Well, of course you are; you always have been."

He would've glared at her, but then he would've had to acknowledge her presence. He was rather hoping that if he ignored her for long enough, she would simply leave on her own. 

"I know the two of you have had a disagreement, Severus, but surely you're not going to let that be the end of it?"

She sighed and sipped at her tea for a while when he didn't answer, preferring to scowl out the kitchen window instead. 

"You need only apologize to him, you know," she said eventually, placing her empty cup down on its saucer.

"I already apologized," he blurted out, annoyed with himself for the slip as soon as the words were out. 

"Did you?"

He had. Probably. Yes, probably. He was almost certain he'd said the words at least once. Most likely. 

"Well, perhaps it bears repeating." She stood and gathered her skirts. "Apologizing is only half the battle, Severus. It is the easy part. The hard part is meaning it." She left. 

Severus held his head in his hands and let the tea go cold.

\--

The damnable woman was right, of course, which was why Severus found himself in his lab grinding Jobberknoll feathers into a fine powder. It was the first time in the ten days that had passed since Potter's departure that he didn't feel like he was being crushed under the weight of all the silence in his house. 

He was doing something. He was fixing it, making things right. Everything would work out. Surely it must. 

Surely Potter would come back. 

\--

Harry came back to himself on his kitchen floor, having fallen to the side. His face was wet with tears that he wiped away with his jumper sleeve as he struggled to his feet and headed for the door. 

\--

Severus didn't react when he heard the knock at the door. He stayed put in his wingback in the sitting room by the fireplace, kept his book in hand. He didn't want to get his hopes up like the last time he'd heard a knock at his door. Probably it was Minerva again, anyway. Considering how comfortable she'd been with making herself at home, he wasn't sure why she bothered to knock at all. 

The knock continued and he ignored it, gripping his book hard enough to whiten his knuckles. He would not go to the door and humiliate himself again. 

The knocking stopped and Severus thought himself unburdened, but then he heard the door open and his heart was suddenly in his chest. The wards would only allow two people to open that door without a key and Severus was one of them. 

The footsteps he heard like thunder between his eyes were not those of a woman. They were familiar but he dared not look. He kept his eyes trained on the blurred words of the book he'd struggled to read for the last hour. 

The tread stopped in the doorway and silence followed. He still didn't look up, not until Potter said, "Sir?" uncertainly and Severus was sure it was he invading his home again—until he was sure Potter had come back.


End file.
